tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61299310661867488402018-09-17T03:50:32.683+01:00Wild Dan's PilgrimageAn Aussie abroadDan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-30085742003022795992016-06-07T17:45:00.000+01:002016-06-07T18:07:29.293+01:00Ode to NutellaToday I'm going to share with you one of my favourite poems. So grab an armchair and sit by the fire (or turn on the air-conditioner if that makes you feel better). Composed in 2012 just after the early noughties, Ode to Nutella is one of Ketki Madane's finest works. Historians believe it was composed in the kitchen, but alternative readings affirm it was the bedroom.
Ode to Nutella
NutellaDan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-17963075975218041232016-04-22T17:08:00.000+01:002016-04-22T17:08:11.062+01:00Awkward dating profilesDating sites. Yeah, they're fun aren't they, marketing yourself to the world. Highlighting your strengths (passion and energy), hiding your weaknesses (passion for pizza). I thought I'd try something different. Rather than concentrate on my obsession with nature, exercise and love of art house cinema, I'd be truly authentic: proclaim my passion for poetry. Surely I'd have the intellectual women Dan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-13213128492931003292016-04-11T17:47:00.000+01:002016-04-11T17:47:27.187+01:00Space Juice - the journey of writing
My latest
journey is finally complete: an inner journey spent at cafes and
staying awake at night tapping away in front of the PC. Or leaning head in hand
dreaming of other worlds.
This journey
is the completion of my novel Space Juice, finally published on Amazon!
http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01DXCRCWA
I won’t reveal
how long it took to write. This extends down the years, perhaps into
Dan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-41898393261643961082013-04-19T00:59:00.000+01:002013-04-19T01:01:20.800+01:00Day 25 - From Crypt to CoquetryChloe is sitting on the plinth under the O'Connell statue, nibbling at a sandwich when I approach at 10:32. In the days of mobile phones and instant updates we have managed a rendez-vous without exchanging digital identities.
There are no fixed plans for the day, other than visit the Guinness Storehouse (a revisit, for me). We begin our wanderings aimlessly, as all wanderings should be. They Dan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0Dublin, Co. Dublin, Ireland53.3498053 -6.260309699999993453.0463118 -6.9057566999999933 53.6532988 -5.6148626999999935tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-11848478064722658032013-04-08T22:57:00.001+01:002013-04-08T22:57:27.479+01:00Day 24: Recollections in the TempleYes, you've guessed it. I'm not actually travelling any more but writing this blog from memory. A year later! My photos serve as a guide. Will I ever finish this log of my travels? Eventually. But in a sense I'm still travelling. I pulled up stumps in Sydney recently and moved to London, so much did these travels influence me. But I will try to recall the rest of these voyages - the next 40 odd Dan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0Temple Bar, Dublin, Ireland53.3450903 -6.263803199999983927.823055800000002 -47.572397199999983 78.8671248 35.044790800000015tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-53020345048542965752012-04-10T12:14:00.000+01:002013-03-13T23:25:13.153+00:00Day 23 - Packing up stuffI wander about aimlessly on Day 23, but do achieve an important objective. I mail some of my stuff back home. You see, the Australian dollar is doing so mighty fine that I'm buying too much - especially clothes - and my suitcase is rapidly threatening to become a big bulging black bag about to burst. It's pretty heavy too.
So I grab meeself a cardboard box from Dublin's central post office on Dan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0Gardiner Street Upper, Dublin, Co. Dublin, Ireland53.3579644 -6.2602593000000353.3555954 -6.26530180000003 53.3603334 -6.25521680000003tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-43999093555891972502012-04-07T14:40:00.000+01:002012-04-10T11:14:39.944+01:00Day 22 - The Gravity of drinking GuinnessArguably the most famous tourist attraction in Dublin is the Guinness Storehouse. The approach to the storehouse conjures all sorts of steampunk fantasies.
A few friends who have been here pointed out that although it is a must see, it is also a glorified marketing exercise for Guinness. The first three floors talk you through the making of this great stout. I plead ignorance on the Dan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-38318533067235088262012-03-12T12:02:00.000+00:002012-04-07T14:42:45.954+01:00Day 21 - Monks and MagicMy open-top bus tour ticket lasts three days, with free travel on Dublin buses. I better make use of it! I embark towards Trinity College, Dublin, home to the legendary Book of Kells - an 8th century illuminated manuscript of the gospels and a 'must see' according to a Sydney Morning Herald travel feature. Founded in 1592, Trinity College is Ireland's oldest university, and is certainly older (byDan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-41718799876484306262012-03-07T01:37:00.000+00:002012-03-07T01:37:12.316+00:00Day 20 - Expert Whiskey TesterA fellow traveller on the Scotland trip had remarked that at the beginning of the Jameson Distillery tour, wait for the guide to seek 10 or so volunteers for whiskey tasting. I keep my arm cocked, ready for the question, and when she asks, "I need 10 people for whiskey tasting at the end of ...," my hand shoots up before her sentence is complete.
Having already been to Bells Distillery I'm eagerDan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-83293853925363773822012-03-04T07:42:00.000+00:002012-03-04T07:42:24.413+00:00Day 20 - Writers MuseumI rise early enough to acquit myself of the free breakfast, although early risings are increasingly a struggle. The host of the B&B prepares a passable bacon, eggs and sausage, giving me enough carbs to support the long walks I invariably undertake as a traveller. When you're exploring a new city, an hour's walk is a stroll in the park. New streets and boutiques, different fashions, houses the Dan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-35279046580048332492012-02-16T21:57:00.000+00:002012-02-16T21:57:31.519+00:00Day 19 - The Incredible Zany Ineffable Opentop Bus Tour Yes, I said in London "why do a tour?", especially one of those open top bus tours. I studied history at university and literature - a large part of this was of the English variety hence I was well equipped to explore London on my own initiative. Dublin is a different story. I know James Joyce hung out here for awhile before heading to the continent. Yeats is Dublin's darling poet. Guinness, Dan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-76503186617994395432012-02-14T22:08:00.000+00:002012-02-16T22:01:42.636+00:00Day 19 - My abode for a week Lower Gardiner St is my destination after hopping off the airport bus. Aren't these airport buses and trains convenient. London's is of course the best, costing less than three pounds. Sydney's? Daylight robbery at $15.
As I make my way to Lower Gardiner St the road side becomes increasingly strewn with rubbish, the pavements covered in fresh spittle; the gait of the pedestrians is tough. Dan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-39553728855745630542012-02-13T23:36:00.000+00:002012-02-13T23:55:39.216+00:00Day 19 - Rub a dub DublinI get to Edingburgh airport without a hitch and am glad I upgraded my accomodation from dorm to single room. Yes, I'm getting old. Nothing worse than rising in the morning and having to pack your things in the dark so you don't wake any groggy Australian tourists.
But at the airport I'm unaware of EU regulations. I chuck out by Bic disposal razor when I don't need to. You see, these orange Bic Dan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-84325925480542640392012-02-12T01:24:00.000+00:002012-02-12T01:24:50.901+00:00Day 18 - Come Aussies come Aussies comeThird day of the tour and we get up close and personal with Loch Ness, although no sign of the monster. Our guide is adamant there is something in the loch, and is equally adamant that it's not a monster.
"Aye, I'm sure there's something there, but it's not right to call it a monster. It's not a monster," he says with the Scottish downward inflection.
"Are you sure it's still there?" I query. "Dan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-54631658004025116642012-02-09T23:57:00.000+00:002012-03-04T07:50:25.825+00:00Day 17 - Holy CooWe get our first glimpse of Loch Ness, that 40km long tranquil loch with its gleaming waters. Nearby is a paddock with some Hairy Coos, shaggy things who are more than eager to have their photo taken by a bunch of equally dishevelled Aussie tourists.
But the highlight of the day (pun not intended) is sculling a few drams of whiskey near the cliffs of Skye. The fuzzy warm feeling in the chest Dan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-45099443675802463942012-02-09T22:43:00.000+00:002012-02-09T22:43:59.360+00:00Day 16 - Cosy triviaWe reach the cosy hostel in the dark of early evening - Morag's Lodge, Loch Ness. Dinner is a delicious chicken stuffed with haggis - if haggis wasn't so difficult to make this could be a surprising dinner party dish. Over a couple of pints I discover that some of my fellow Haggisers are not only Australian, but from Annandale, the suburb where I live. They're having a nice family trip - two Dan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-78730702459877906982012-02-08T00:01:00.000+00:002012-02-12T01:28:34.051+00:00Day 16 - HighlanderOur driver and guide arrives sharply at 8am to escort us into the Highlands, wearing jacket and kilt, his knees evidently immune to the cold. He has a thick Scottish accent that is perhaps more prevalent among regional areas, where every phrase ends with the downward inflection of resignation. The accents of a couple of younger blokes I talked to in a bar last night didn't have quite the same Dan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-84520105562216085702012-02-07T01:15:00.000+00:002012-02-08T00:12:18.255+00:00Day 15 - Haunting EdinburghThe mercury - or rather my weather app - reads one degree celcius (34 fahrenheit). Eventually I find Edinburgh Central YHA on Leith St, made all the more difficult because Leith St is also known as Elms Row. The location of the hostel on Annandale St revives thoughts of home.
The Royal Mile awaits. Buildings along cobbled Royal Mile range from medieval to Victorian, as Edinburghians have done Dan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-32642890745508569692012-02-07T00:01:00.000+00:002012-02-07T00:01:54.052+00:00Day 15 - To Edinburgh on the EasternI struggle out the door Monday morning, dropping my laptop for good luck, luckily it's encased in several layers. King's Cross Station is crowded - and rather for dirty for London, which is on the whole a very clean city without litter or graffiti, comparable to Singapore.
The Eastern train to Edinburgh departs promptly. Forty-five minutes later I casually look out the window and realise we're Dan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-82687079652784277862012-02-04T00:56:00.000+00:002012-02-05T11:42:34.273+00:00Day 14 - Last day in LondonI should've left the window open last night. Perhaps the heating was a little too cosy and my sleep a little too deep. The bags under my eyes are so pronounced I may as well have been Shannon Briggs after his slugging by Vitali Klitschko for the WBC.
I go to Lena's Cafe on Praed St and add another healthy looking photo to my collection of classy English breakfasts. Nothing beats a snag lying Dan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-79590691640476915372012-02-04T00:48:00.000+00:002012-02-04T00:50:37.790+00:00Day 13 - The Iron LadyA trip to the cinema is not quite as good as the theatre. But it makes for an easy outing, and having seen advertisements for The Iron Lady on buses I decide to give her a go. The Odeon on Edgeware Rd is the closest, and I arrive at 7:30 for the 8pm session. Unlike Australia, you can choose between regular tickets, or if you pay an extra 2 pounds, upgrade to premium and get better seats. The Dan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-10880109183972576662012-02-03T00:29:00.000+00:002012-02-03T00:29:33.686+00:00Day 13 - A drinkNear St James Park Station is what appears to be a quiet pub, quiet because it's not yet 4 o'clock. I think of ordering something moderately heathly but am won over by a greasy platter featuring homemade fishfingers in homemade batter, homemade onion rings in homemade batter, tortillas with mozarella, duck spring rolls and garlic bread with homemade butter. A meal made in heaven that'll send you Dan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-11389781795774679032012-01-28T23:32:00.000+00:002012-01-28T23:32:52.896+00:00Day 13 - Random strollingMy peregrinations take me to St James and I walk by the chuch where William Blake was baptised. A few minutes later I stop in my tracks, staring at the formidable memorial to the Duke of York. He doesn't look the least bit lonely, despite being on a 40 metre high pedestal where it must be a darn sight colder. The Duke of York was also known as the Duke of Debt for owing more than 2 million poundsDan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-89778810342683630572012-01-28T21:47:00.000+00:002012-01-28T23:34:26.049+00:00Day 12 - A Quiet EveningIn the evening I'm lucky to have arranged dinner with a former colleague from my days at a legal publisher in Sydney. Lianne emigrated to London five years ago, and her Australian accent has completely disappeared!
We meet at Fulham Broadway and go for Indian - Masala Zone the place is called and it's one of a chain. Apparently the curries are best in the East End (and specifically in Brick LaneDan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6129931066186748840.post-32432095906014672982012-01-28T20:57:00.000+00:002012-01-28T21:02:11.706+00:00Day 12 - A Quiet DayMy idea of a quiet day is to set out with no intentions, and preferably not visit any museums. After getting a random bus I find myself in the vicinity of The British Library. A little peek would do no harm, wouldn't it?
The keeper at Highgate had expressed his distaste for the architecture of The British Library, calling it a let down compared to Britain's other great architectural triumphs. Dan Wildhttps://plus.google.com/106370049843171369658noreply@blogger.com0